Loyalty
by orianna-2000
Summary: Madame Giry offers to lead Raoul to the Phantom's lair, but whose side is she truly on?


_This is a non-profit work of fan-fiction based upon _The Phantom of the Opera _novels and films. All related characters, places, and events, belong to Gaston Leroux and Andrew Lloyd Webber and are used without permission. This story, and all original content, belongs to the author, © 2005, revised __© 2007_

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**_Loyalty_**  
**By Orianna-2000**

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_A Mme Giry vignette, inspired by the curious fact that she helps Raoul find his way to the Phantom's lair, but stops shortly before he falls into a trap. A coincidence? Let us see..._

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With a keen eye, Madame Giry surveyed the chaos taking place in the opera house's auditorium. Who would have imagined such panic and resulting damage from a falling chandelier? It would be a miracle if no one died in the mad rush to escape. She rather suspected that Erik hadn't counted on the chandelier catching the seats on fire, for he would be the last to inflict damage on the opera house. She shook her head, but couldn't help her amusement at the antics of the Opera Ghost. He _had _warned them! She'd even advised the foolish managers not to scorn the ghost's commands. They chose not to listen, and an interrupted opera was the least of their worries now.

She noticed many of the actors and stagehands gathering backstage, exclaiming loudly over the still form of Piangi. Carlotta kept wailing and screeching over her beloved tenor. What had she seen in him? For that matter, what had he seen in her? Some of those gathered began to mutter about taking revenge on the Phantom. The fools! Did they not realize that Ubaldo Piangi did not lay dead, but merely unconscious? Erik did not kill without cause, after all, but mercifully drugged those who found themselves in his way. Of course, if they did not give the singer proper medical attention, he might very well die after all. Perhaps she ought to say something...

But before she could approach them, the Viscount de Chagny rushed up to her, panicked and flustered. He'd been forced to sit quietly while the Phantom made love to his fiancée on stage in front of thousands of Paris' elite citizens. Though his anger had grown hot, he'd also been forced to hold the guards back from shooting, lest they accidentally hit Christine. Now he fumed at the fact the Phantom had vanished in the middle of the opera, taking Christine with him. By now he'd caught on that Mme Giry knew more than she ought about the Opera Ghost and the strange happenings. In spite of ignoring her earlier advice, he would now expect her to help him.

"Where did he take her?" he begged, just as she predicted he would, with his eyes wide and helpless.

Mme Giry considered briefly. If she claimed ignorance, Raoul would likely go hunting through the cellars by himself. He _might _actually find his way into the Phantom's lair, and ruin everything. But if she guided him... yes, indeed. She hadn't lived at the opera for thirty years without picking up a few skills. She nodded, carefully hiding her amusement at her plan. "Come with me, monsieur. I will take you to him, but remember—keep your hand at the level of your eyes!"

"But why, madame?" Raoul began to follow her, dodging the frantic stagehands who scurried about. His gaze fell upon Piangi, still unconscious.

"Why, monsieur?" Giry almost laughed. Was he really so stupid? "The Punjab lasso! First Buquet, and now Piangi. Come with me, monsieur. Do as I say," she added with just the right trace of irritation and apprehension. If nothing else, Raoul must remember proper respect for Erik's abilities.

Avoiding the corridors filled with fleeing guests and employees, and those filled with smoke from the fire, Mme Giry led Raoul in a roundabout manner to the lowest cellars. She made certain to take a convoluted route, deliberately trying to confuse the viscount. When they reached the entrance to the tunnels, she opened the concealed door and then hesitated.

"What is it? Is this the way we go?" Raoul asked anxiously. "It's very dark. Shall I get a torch?"

Mme Giry bit her lip and widened her eyes. She lowered her voice, so as to sound nervous. "If you insist, monsieur. It is a long way through the dark."

The viscount quickly found a torch and fumbled trying to light it. After a few moments, he held it up high. It cast forbidding shadows and gave the tunnel entrance a frightening appearance. She could see his Adam's apple bob as he swallowed uneasily. What a child, indeed. How could Christine even contemplate marrying this fool, when she had known the dark and powerful temptations the Phantom offered?

"We must hurry, monsieur, or we shall be too late," she said, giving Raoul something new to think about. The more distracted he became, the easier it would be for Erik to dispatch him.

As they eased into the black passage, she reminded him to keep his hand at eye level. He did so, and kept glancing back into the darkness behind them as if expecting an attack at any moment. He didn't realize that the Phantom would be quite busy with Christine right now. Mme Giry easily led him in circles, retracing their path several times without his noticing. When she sensed Raoul's agitation growing, she found the right corridor and guided him down a cold, drafty ramp. Years ago it had been used to transport trained horses from the stables to the stage, but they no longer used this path. Ancient opera posters hung from the walls, shredded with age. Though the viscount glanced at them curiously, she pushed him onward.

Finally they began to descend a spiraling staircase, carved from stone. Mme Giry lifted the hem of her gown up so as not to trip, and carefully counted how many levels they passed. At the right place, she stopped. Raoul continued a few steps, then paused to look back at her. He held the torch up high, casting strange shapes upon the curved wall. Below them, the stairs spiraled on unendingly. "Madame Giry?"

She shook her head slightly, putting reluctance into her voice. "This is as far as I dare go."

"Of course," he replied. "Thank you for your help, Madame. I will find them, and bring Christine home. Your assistance will not go unrewarded, I assure you."

Mme Giry demurred politely, then turned and began to ascend the steps. As soon as the viscount disappeared from sight, she paused and waited, listening intently.

There! A grinding sound, then a splash. Raoul had encountered one of the many traps Erik had long ago placed down here to ward off intruders. With luck, it would become Raoul's watery grave and he would not be able to interfere with the Phantom's plans for Christine.

Smirking ever so slightly, Madame Giry lifted her skirts and continued upward. Erik had many friends, and even a viscount must learn that no one interfered with the Opera Ghost's plans and lived to tell about it.


End file.
